


Living in a Powder Keg and Giving Off Sparks

by Emerald_Leaves



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald_Leaves/pseuds/Emerald_Leaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fullmetal Alchemist one-shots/ short stories featuring Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Orange

**Author's Note:**

> Love is blind, and so too might your lover's color coordination be.

It was…orange. A bright, garish, blinding shade of orange. And not only was it terrible in and of itself, it actually managed to make her look bad, too. 

“Lieutenant…what are you wearing?” Colonel Mustang asked, wincing as he tried not to stare into the too-bright glare of the blouse. 

“Hmm?” the blonde hummed, before looking down and smiling. “This? I just got this.”

While he could usually keep pretty cool under such situations, Roy found that the hideousness of that shirt somehow destroyed his ability to use his poker face. “Why?” The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it. 

Hawkeye considered her new purchase for a moment with a frown, before looking back up at her commanding officer a bit confused. “I don’t know. You always said I dress in such dark colors. I thought I’d try something different.”

So this was his fault?! 

Raging guilt surged through the Colonel as he braved another peek at the revolting orange shirt. Its burnt tone washed out the Lieutenant’s pale skin and somehow clashed with and dimmed her usually bright, perfect amber eyes. Red would have been a stunning color on her, even certain shades of coral would have been flattering. But orange? 

No. 

“Lieutenant,” Roy stood up from his office chair, causing the woman to come to attention. It was her day off today, she’d just come by to quickly drop off a file she’d finished the night before at home, but when he used that voice, everyone in his office obeyed. “Come with me.”

One of the best things about Hawkeye was that she very rarely complained, even when Roy was shanghaiing her when she was technically supposed to be not working. Instead, the ever loyal Lieutenant followed after him dutifully. Apparently she really didn’t notice the way everyone flinched as she walked past in that orange disaster. 

“Havoc, I’m taking an early lunch break,” Roy informed the team before walking completely out of the door. “It may be extended as I will be…correcting a grievous error before I return.”

While Hawkeye frowned in confusion, the other officers seemed to catch his not-so-subtle drift and saluted with relief clear on their faces. “Yes, Sir!” Havoc replied. “Take as long as you need, Sir.”

And with that, the Colonel walked out the door, Hawkeye still trailing after him. When they made it outside, and the Lieutenant went to her car, Roy got in, but not before shucking off his coat. Without a word, he passed it to the woman beside him as he sat. She frowned back. 

“I’m…not cold, Sir.”

“Wear it, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

A raised eyebrow was his only reply, but dutifully, Hawkeye put on the too-big coat, instantly shielding the world from the abysmal orange. Roy had to blink a few times to clear his eyes, and he wasn’t the least bit surprised at the relief he felt in his cornea once that despicable color was concealed.

The jacket, however, was a little ridiculous on Hawkeye, yet it also looked kind of…sweet. Like a child playing dress up. The image of a little girl with dark hair and amber eyes flashed through Roy’s mind as he stared at the woman beside him, causing his heart to twist painfully. 

“Where are we going, Sir?” 

The question snapped Roy out of his daydream, and he cleared his throat, turning away from his Lieutenant and the images that came along with staring at her. “To Rosenbloom.”

“Rosenbloom?” Hawkeyes asked, all the while starting the car and pulling out of the parking space. “Isn’t that a clothing shop, Sir?”

Sneaking a glance at the blonde, the Colonel found himself smiling at the too-large jacket on slim shoulders. It really did look cute. And for reasons he refused to examine too closely, he liked the idea of Hawkeye wearing his clothing. A strange possessiveness slowly coiled around his spine, and the satisfaction did not lessen as he turned to stare back out the window, away from the gloriously precious images that floated around the Lieutenant. 

“It is indeed, Lieutenant. As I said before, I need to correct a grievous error…”


	2. Lamppost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza Hawkeye has a bad day.

Stalking back to her apartment in the rain, glaring at anyone and everything in her path, Riza couldn’t quite think of a time she’d been so angry. It was the type of anger that blurred the vision, although that could have just been the rain. It really didn’t matter, however, as the fact remained, she was furious. The reason for her anger? None other than her commanding officer. 

Just thinking about Colonel Mustang sent another wave of fury washing over the Lieutenant as the rain pelted her back. What an idiot! How stupid could one man be?! After everything she did for him, after all the times she all but took a bullet for him, he had to be so…so…?

“Ugh!” the sound escaped the blonde before she could bite it back. 

It didn’t matter. The day was done―she was done―and now all she wanted to do was take a hot shower, change into her nightgown, and go to bed. If it hadn’t been raining, she might have taken Black Hayate on another walk to use up some frustrated energy, but she didn’t want to catch a cold. Nor was it a very good idea to go walking alone when it was so dark if she were honest with herself. Not that she couldn’t protect herself―certainly not that!―but she just didn’t want to deal with anymore people today. She’d had enough. 

When her apartment building came into view, a small helping of relief came over the woman as she continued her quick march for the door. While it had been a warm day, the rain was cold, and the thick uniform she wore could only stand so much before it was soaked through. Yes, a hot shower would be just the thing to relax the stiffness. 

As she went up the steps and to the door, Riza noticed the lamppost just outside flickering. Turning, she scowled at it as if it had personally insulted her. The city really should have looked into fixing that by now, yet like everything else recently, it seemed that she was cursed to live in a world of ineptitude and inefficiency. She stood a moment glaring at the light flickering and couldn’t help but be reminded of earlier, the flashes of gunfire…

No. 

Don’t go down that path, Riza, the blonde told herself firmly as she walked inside and out of the rain. 

It took only a minute before she was in her apartment and closed off the outside world. Once safely ensconced within her own familiar, safe environment, she sighed and leaned against the door, closing her eyes. She could hear Black Hayate’s claws clicking as he walked in to see her. 

Peeking open one eye, she smiled tiredly down at the dog, still just a puppy really. “How was your day?” she asked. Black Hayate barked in response. “Still better than mine.”

Pushing off the door took more effort than Riza was willing to admit. Goal still in mind, she managed to tug off her boots, leaving the muddy things by the door, before heading straight for her bedroom. She stripped out of her drenched uniform quickly before grabbing her nightgown and a clean pair of underwear before going to the bathroom and locking the door. She set her Colt 1903 on the counter. It wasn’t as though she expected anyone to come in and attack, but in her line of work, she’d rather be safe than sorry. And after Ishval, Riza never did become comfortable not having a firearm near at hand should she need it. 

When she turned on the water, and stood in the spray, another sigh escaped. Who knew warm water could feel so heavenly? 

A sound at the door had the Lieutenant jumping, but just as she was beginning to reach for the Colt, she paused. It was only Black Hayate, scratching at the door. She frowned, making mental note of working with him to correct that bad behavior. But then, she couldn’t really blame him for his anxiousness. He was probably out of food and had been alone most of the day. And he was still technically a puppy. Not that that justified his actions, but still.

As Riza washed her hair, she smiled, thinking back to when she’d first seen the tiny little black and white puppy. Fuery had been so worried about the tiny little dog, it had actually taken a lot of willpower on Riza’s part not to fawn over the pup. She’d always liked animals, yet she’d never had a pet before. She hadn’t been too sure she could properly take care of a puppy. They were a tremendous responsibility, after all. 

But as her mind wandered back to that rainy day when Fuery had come in with a puppy, she could help think of when the Sergeant had wanted the Colonel to take the pup. A smile wormed its way onto Riza’s lips as she pictured Colonel Mustang taking up the puppy and beaming in absolute joy at the tiny creature. He’d been so happy with that little pup, singing nonsense and praising the attributes of the canine species. Seeing him like that, completely at ease and manically cheerful had reminded her so much of when they’d been kids. The way his eyes would light up, so joyful as he hadn’t been since Ishval. It had warmed her heart to see. 

Just as she was beginning to relax, Riza jolted as she realized what she was doing. “Shit,” she cursed, getting soap in her eye. 

While it stung, she was almost glad for the pain. It reminded her that she’d been angry, and reminded her that she really should stay angry. While normally not one to hold grudges, this time was different. She didn’t want to forget, didn’t want to forgive. She wanted to stay mad. 

Once she had scrubbed herself clean and there was really no logical reason for her to remain in the shower, Riza stepped out, grabbing her towel. After she was dried sufficiently, she threw on her night clothes and wrapped her hair in the towel. After she rolled her neck, still feeling tense and ill at ease. 

When she opened the door, Black Hayate sitting there, little tail wagging back and forth. She shook her head fondly at the canine before going into the kitchen to get him and herself something to eat. 

Thankfully Black Hayate was generally a quiet dog and was never too fussy. He sat patiently as she opened his food and gave him exactly one cup. She’d calculated the proper amount he should be receiving daily. It simply would not do to either underfeed or overfeed him. After all, this little one was counting on her. If she didn’t look after him, who would? 

So, as her pup ate happily, Riza made herself a cup of tea and decided to just eat an apple. She really wasn’t all that hungry despite it having been a long day. Her stomach was still uneasy and churned after all that had happened. Without her leave, her mind conjured the Colonel as he fell, the gunfire shattered the stillness of the night…

Shaking her head, Riza turned her attention to her tea, cursing herself when she noticed how her hands shook. 

Stupid nerves. 

Stupid Colonel. 

The light outside kept a steady flicker, annoying the blonde enough that she turned her glare upon it. Eventually, however, the flickering slowed. Standing up, tea in hand, she walked over to the window to look out. Was it finally dying all together? While the flickering was annoying, she hoped it wasn’t about to burn out. Some flashing light was better than none at all. Her neighborhood was dark enough as it was. 

When she looked out, however, she was startled to see a figure standing out under the lamppost. Everything was dark, but Riza thought she could make out a man. The idea of grabbing her pistol sounded very appealing, but just as she was about to turn away, the light flickered back on, and she saw familiar blue garb. 

A dark scowl split her face, and turning away from the window, Riza grabbed a long overcoat, stuffed her Colt in her pocket, and slipped on her boots by the door. Grabbing her keys, she walked out of her apartment and down the stairs. Of all the people in the worlds she didn’t want to see, what was it him that showed up? He had some uncanny ability to appear when he wasn’t desired. 

Standing in the door, Riza decided not to step out into the rain. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. 

Colonel Mustang took a step forward, frowning. He looked pathetic, soaked through, black hair matted down to his head, and she even thought she saw him shiver once. Idiot. Why was he here? 

“I just…I came because I want to know why you’re so angry with me.” His voice, while it had started off hesitant, slowly morphed into something defensive. It was just like him to want to throw this all back on her. 

“Why am I angry?” Riza snapped, narrowing her eyes. “How about because you’re an idiot?” 

The Colonel blinked in surprise— probably because she hadn’t spoken quite so candidly to him since before she had become his subordinate— before he scowled back. “And why am I an idiot?” he snapped. 

“Because you’re too stupid to see that you’re useless, especially on days like these!” Riza snarled, not caring that she was speaking to a higher ranking officer. “It’s been rainy all day, but the moment we get an assignment, what do you do? You charge into a fight with six men!” 

“We had our orders, Lieutenant,” Colonel Mustang growled. “And I wasn’t going to use my flame alchemy. I am not an idiot. I had my pistol drawn, and you and Havoc were there to back me up. I wasn’t just running into a fight recklessly. What the hell was I supposed to do? Disobey orders? Not go after the deserters?” 

“You should have stayed behind,” the blonde argued, stepping out into the rain, hugging her coat around herself. “Havoc and I could have taken care of them on our own. But then you got in the way!” 

“How the hell did I get in the way?” the Colonel exclaimed indignantly. “As I recall, Lieutenant, you’re the one who didn’t see that the sidewalk was uneven and tripped, not me.”

“Fine, I made a mistake,” Riza threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, her anger coming to a head. This really wasn’t like her, all this emotion, but she was so angry, and she just didn’t care at the moment. She didn’t care she was getting soaked again, didn’t care that she was arguing in the middle of the street, and didn’t care that she was screaming at her superior officer. 

“I made a mistake by not watching where I was going,” she conceded. “But then you shouldn’t have turned back to me. You never take your eyes off the enemy—you know that! What would have happened if you hadn’t thrown yourself down fast enough? You’d be full of at least ten bullet holes right now!”

“I was fast enough, and despite what you seem to think, I realized my mistake and corrected it instantly. Unlike you,” the Colonel sneered. Despite the rain, Riza could have sworn she saw him steaming. “You sat in that damn puddle for, what? Three minutes before you snapped yourself out of it to take care of those men?” 

The Lieutenant’s face tinged pink in anger. “I didn’t get up because those deserters thought I’d been shot, and I was shocked enough that my superior officer was stupid enough to turn away from the enemy, giving them a clear shot of his back!”

Colonel Mustang took another step forward, getting right into Riza’s face, but she didn’t back down. She could see in the flickering light how angry he was, how his eyes burned furiously. She hadn’t seen him this angry in a long time. It was truly a frightening sight, yet the shiver that ran down Riza’s spine was not from fear. 

“So caring about my subordinate is stupid?” his voice dipped down low, dangerous. 

“It is if it risks your life, Sir,” she didn’t back down. 

“So you think my life is worth more than yours?” 

Riza didn’t hesitate as she answered. “Yes.”

At last the ire stalled, and as Riza looked into the Colonel’s eyes, she saw sadness, a sadness that was reflected in her own eyes. Did he really not understand? Did he really not see just how close she’d been to losing him today, and because of her own stupidity? If something were to ever happen to him, she would never forgive herself. 

The two officers were silent as the rain pelted down upon them, neither really feeling it anymore. Riza was startled from her thoughts when she felt the Colonel’s hand gently take hers. Surprised, she looked up, and saw her turbulent feelings reflecting in his eyes perfectly. 

“Did it ever occur to you,” his voice was tender, “that I might think your life was worth more than mine?”

Something happened then, and Riza would never know for sure who had moved first. All she knew was that one moment they were staring at one another, the next, she was wrapped up in his arms, and their lips were locked together. For several minutes they stood out in the rain, kissing desperately, the tension of the day finally washing away as they stood under the dying light of the lamppost.


	3. Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU: Colonel Mustang is having a bad day and taking it out on everyone else when he gets a surprise visit.

Edward Elric sat in the offices in East City, glaring at the wall. He’d just gotten an earful from the Colonel. Again. It made him seriously doubted that the man couldn’t be an asshole. All Mustang ever seemed to do was strut about showing off, spewing sarcasm, or generally just being as unpleasant as possible. It wasn’t natural how manipulative and sneaky the bastard was. 

“Don’t worry too much about ol’ Roy, Ed,” Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes slung a too-familiar arm around the teen, who desperately wished he could push the older man off. But from experience, he knew that was about as impossible as the sky falling. “That’s just the way he is! He’ll calm down once he’s found himself a good woman and pops out a couple kids. You’ll see!” 

“A good woman, huh?” Ed decided to try and dislodge the arm. Nope. Wouldn’t budge. “Well then, we’re all doomed. No good woman would have that jerk. Womanizing bastard.”

“Brother,” Alphonse admonished sternly. “You shouldn’t talk about the Colonel like that. After everything he’s done for us?” 

“Well it’s true!” Ed huffed, never liking having to be scolded by Al. In those moments especially, it always seemed like Al was the older brother. 

Thankfully Hughes was a man with a sense of humor and didn’t reprimand the young State Alchemist for the blatant display of disrespect. If anything, he seemed amused. He was just about to open his mouth, probably to move along and bore them all to tears with stories of his daughter, when the door opened and the Colonel strode in, arm full of reports. 

“Breda,” he barked, scowling over at the redhead. “I thought you said these reports were finished!” 

“They are, Sir,” Breda replied respectfully. Cautiously. 

His manners didn’t pay off. The Colonel’s scowl was as black as tar and just as thick as he all by threw the papers in the shorter man’s face. “No. They’re not. Complete them immediately!”

The others in the office stilled, and Ed couldn’t help but watch the Colonel angrily stalk off to look out the window at the rain, muttering to himself. 

Huh. 

Seemed like the Colonel was generally in a bad mood today. Mustang wasn’t usually so harsh on his men. Maybe Ed’s particularly severe lecture really wasn’t just because he’d royally screwed up. Again. Maybe the Colonel was just pissed with the day? But what could upset the normally unflappable Colonel Smirks? 

When the door opened a second time, Ed unconsciously turned his head to see who had come in. To his surprise it wasn’t anyone in military blue. No, in fact, it wasn’t anyone military at all. It was a woman. A woman with light blonde hair pulled back and held in a clip with two little boys at her sides, each holding one of her hands, and she was obviously pregnant. The two boys, the oldest probably not more than five-years-old, both had black hair, and were openly gawking around the office. 

Glancing back at the Colonel, who was still glaring hatefully out the window, the young alchemist felt a thrill of fear for the woman. She had obviously gotten lost or something, and she was about to get her head bitten off by the emotionally stunted bastard that passed as colonel material. Ed had to get her and those two kids out of here before Mustang set something on fire. 

But Ed had only just taken a step towards the little family, when the woman’s amber eyes locked on to the back of Mustang’s figure. A small smile slipped onto her lips as she called out, “Roy?” 

At the sound of his name, the Colonel stiffened, before spinning around in—what seemed impossible for a man that always seemed to know everything about everything—absolute shock. No one had ever surprised the Colonel like that. No one. 

“Riza?” he asked, dark eyes wide. 

“Daddy!” 

Without warning, both boys let go of their mother’s hands and made a beeline straight for Mustang. Ed knew he had to intervene, this being the worst case of mistaken identity ever, but his legs stayed rooted in place. He wouldn’t be able to stop the boys in time before they latched onto the Colonel! 

But what broke Ed’s brain completely― and more than likely the brains of everyone else in the room ― was when the Colonel did not scowl or bark at the kids to get away from him, but instead, knelt down, arms wide open, smiling so brightly he looked like a completely different man. 

What the hell was happening here?

“Hey!” Mustang called, scooping the boys into his arms and squeezing them tightly in what could only be called a bear hug. The two little kids shrieked in delight, even when the Colonel started kissing them. 

The world was officially ending. 

The woman walked into the office, ignoring the dumbfounded expressions on everyone else’s faces, before she came to stand before the Colonel, who stood to greet her, both boy’s wrapped under his arms, still giggling. “Hello, Riza,” the Colonel smiled, the customary seductive charm in his tone. 

The woman, Riza, smiled back with exasperated fondness. “Hello, Roy.” She stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. 

“This is a surprise,” Mustang smirked, finally setting the two boys down, but they latched on to his legs immediately. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” Riza smiled down at the younger boy, smoothing down his wild black locks. “Leo decided that he wanted to see his daddy on his birthday. That’s all he asked for.”

Impossibly, the Colonel’s face soften as he leaned down and scooped up the young boy, placing his other hand on the head of the older boy still attached to his leg. “Is that right?” he asked the child in his arm. “You wanted to see your daddy for your birthday?” 

“Yeah!” the child exclaimed, wrapping his arms around the Colonel’s neck. “I missed you!” 

The familial scene was so completely domestic and sweet and touching and everything the Colonel wasn’t, that Ed thought he was in a dream. This couldn’t be the same bastard that went about smirking so smugly, leaving behind scores of women drooling after him. This couldn’t possibly be the jerk that used everyone around him with little thought or care. The same man that had, just a minute ago, been stomping about growling, biting everyone’s heads off. It just couldn’t be! 

“Well now,” Mustang hugged the boy back, before pulling away so he could look at his family. “If you missed me so much and came all the way to the East, then I suppose that means I’ll have to take you all out to dinner before we celebrate your birthday tomorrow.”

“Really?!” the older boy exclaimed, just as happy as the younger. “Will you show us around the base, too? Please?”

Mustang looked over at his wife, who smiled warmly back at him. “Of course,” he replied with some of his usual flippant confidence. “And then maybe we can get some ice cream.”

The children cheered while the parents looked on with doting smiles. Riza took the hand of the older boy, while the Colonel still held the younger in one arm. Then, in complete view of everyone, he wrapped his other arm around his wife, and the little family started towards the door, the children chattering away excitedly. 

When he came to the door, allowing his wife to go ahead of him, Mustang turned around to his still thunderstruck audience. With a smirk, he locked eyes with first Hughes, and then Ed. “I still expect your full report on my desk tomorrow morning, Fullmetal. And please, while I know you haven’t completed elementary school, do be mindful of your spelling. I don’t want to have to have someone rewrite your sloppy report. Again.” 

And with that, the Mustang family was gone. Everyone was still so shocked by the sudden appearance of a Mustang family, that no one said anything. Not even Ed, who didn’t even comprehend the insult until about three minutes after the Colonel had gone. But once he did, he snapped. 

“That colossal ass!” Ed screamed. “I don’t make spelling mistakes! Who does that bastard think he is? Always looking down at me like I’m some stupid kid!”

Beside the spastic teen, Hughes finally managed to hinge his jaw back into place after it’d scrapped the floor and began running out the door in an impressive sprint. “Roy! Wait! Why didn’t you tell me you had a family?! We need to arrange a marriage between one of your sons and my perfect little Elicia!” 

The rest of the office suddenly went up in a roar at the knowledge that the Colonel had a family all along and never having said a word. And as Ed and Alphonse slipped out of the office, the older brother heard his younger snicker. “What’s so funny?” he demanded. 

Still chuckling, Al raised one shoulder in an attempt to shrug. “Nothing. Just thinking about what Lieutenant-Colonel Hughes said. Guess he was wrong. Colonel Mustang didn’t change after marrying and having kids after all.”

Horror spread across Ed’s face as his brother’s words sunk in. “So he’ll be an ass forever?!” 

“And just think, Brother,” Alphonse pushed on, morbidly cheerful. “He has two sons that are bound to be just like him.”

Edward groaned, feeling sick to his stomach. “Just what the world needed; more Mustangs!”


	4. Articulate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy hates the word "no"

“No.”

The word was short, clear, and crisp. There was no mistaking it. Simple − no room for misunderstanding. Yet it was not a word Roy Mustang liked to hear. 

All his life Roy had despised the word, hated it for its limitations. It was one of the most powerful barriers in life, from childhood to adulthood. 

No. 

One small little word, only two letters, yet it carried so much weight behind it. It could derail entire operations, crush dreams. 

No. 

He hated it. 

Staring over at his subordinate, scowling, Roy couldn’t decide whether the word sounded better or worse coming from her. No was in the daily vocabulary of his Lieutenant, one she used liberally with him. 

Too liberally. 

No, he couldn’t just pass off his work to someone else. No, couldn’t leave the base to play spy. No, he couldn’t call his ‘girls’ on the office phone. No, he couldn’t force the female officers to wear miniskirts. No, he couldn’t keep sending the Elric brothers on chase after chase just because he thought it was amusing and he didn’t want to have to do the work himself. 

No no no no no no NO!

But today was the final straw. Today, she had pushed him too far. He was her commanding officer, yet Hawkeye dared to tell him no when he’d declared he was going home for the day? No, because he still had work to do. No, because the deadline was coming up soon. Who was she, a mere lieutenant, to order him around? 

“Lieutenant Hawkeye,” he stood from his seat, punctuating her name with cold, crisp articulation. 

The blonde turned around, startled while she was cleaning up her desk area, only to be faced with the Colonel, who had snuck up behind her. 

Before she could had uttered a sound, however, Roy leaned down and caught her lips with his. She immediately tried to jerk back, but he had snaked one hand around her back, the other in her hair, holding her in place while he attacked her mouth. He kissed her hard and long, dominating, allowing all of his anger, frustration, and authority pass from his lips to hers, making sure she understood him clearly, before pulling away. 

When he released her, taking a step back, he watched as Hawkeye blinked owlishly, face beat red. A hand actually found its way to her lips as she continued to stare up at him in absolute astonishment. It helped soothe the Colonel’s bad humor. 

“I’m going out to dinner now,” he announced, keeping his voice firm and indisputable. “And you’re coming with me. That’s an order.”

Hawkeye continued to blink for several more seconds before she looked down at her desk, face still scarlet, just the barest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips before slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”

A rather unexpected thrill shot through Roy at the simple, silly little word. He had just given her an order, and all she could respond with was ‘okay’? 

A stupid smile wanted to split his face, but he managed to barely keep it in check. Marching over to the door, he grabbed his coat and shrugged it on before grabbing hers. He watched her expectantly as she finished putting some things away before rushing over to him and allowing him to help her. He found he didn’t mind this. 

As they walked down the hall together, their boot clicking punctuation the silence, Roy covertly stole a glance at the woman beside him. 

Okay. 

It was a lot better than no, and the more he looked at his Lieutenant, the more he decided he liked the word. 

Okay. 

It had a nice ring to it.


	5. Obsessive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza much watch her obsession destroy itself.

One of the first things you came to understand if you were ever truly introduced to Colonel Roy Mustang was that once he set a goal, there was nothing that would deter him until he had achieved that goal. Whether it was to solve a case, get that promotion, or even just plain running an extra lap, he would do it. Whatever he put his mind towards doing or having, he got it― one way or another― in the end. 

From the very first moment she’d met him, Riza Hawkeye had come to understand quickly that the young man studying under her father was ambitious. He studied hard, rarely sleeping, and pushed himself physically to the point of exhaustion. There was little to nothing he could not accomplish if he but set his mind to it.

A truly wonderful trait. 

Yet with all the good of such a quality came the bad. 

With such lofty ambitions came obsession. Roy Mustang was the sort of man that focused too much, that could pin his concentration down into a fine point under his stare until it was dead. Every ounce of information he could glean from the object of his fixation would be twisted and rung out until there was truly nothing left. He pressed and pressed until there was nothing left to be obtained. 

As an academic, it was truly a worthwhile and even helpful trait. It had helped make the Colonel into a formidable foe to his enemies and rivals. 

Yet as Riza watched him now, burning Envy into a smoldering pile of ash over and over again, the stench of burnt flesh wafting into the air around them, all she could do was sit there, horrified. It had all come to this, his obsession in finding Hughes’s murderer. It had led him down a path she had always feared he might take. It had led him down the path to furious madness. 

Cocking her gun, she pointed it at her Colonel’s head, trying hard not to tear up. While Mustang had obsessed about destroying Hughes’s murdered, Riza had her own obsession. And she would be damned if she allowed him to destroy them both for his stupid mistakes.


	6. Protocol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breda finds himself interested in the Colonel and Lieutenant's relationship.

If there was one thing no one could ever fault Lieutenant Hawkeye on, it was that she followed protocol, never straying. Despite working directly under Colonel Mustang, quite capable of taking advantage of her position or bending the rules, the Lieutenant never did. In fact, despite being the Colonel’s personal assistant/bodyguard/babysitter, Hawkeye seemed even more strict and adherent to the rules than anyone else in the office. 

Why? Breda decided he’d never know. 

If he were the Colonel’s personal assistant, he knew he’d gain any sort of advantage he could against the Boss. Not because he would do anything crazy enough like attempt to betray Mustang―Heymans wasn’t stupid! No one double-crossed the Flame Alchemist!―but because after seeing all Hawkeye did for the Colonel, it would be easy to curry favors in return. After all, how often did the Boss ask her to come in on her days off? Or made her run errands for him that technically weren’t in her job description? 

No, Breda would want favors in return because if he was Mustang’s personal assistant, he would demand to be treated better than Hawkeye. Some days it seemed incredibly unfair the way the Colonel took advantage of the blonde, having her running around like a dog. It was clear to anyone with a pair of eyes that Colonel Mustang had a rather nasty habit of abusing the loyalty of Lieutenant Hawkeye. But what was almost worse was the fact that Hawkeye never called him out on it. 

It was almost like she didn’t care. 

Sure, she would call him out on not working, but that was her job. On more personal things, the Lieutenant rarely said much to their commanding officer. Every once and a while she might scold him for being reckless when out on a mission, but she would quickly temper herself, and Mustang would largely blow her off. Lieutenant Hawkeye could scare the shit out of anyone with just a look, but the Boss always seemed able to brush her looks aside indifferently―which made no sense to Breda as she was terrifying. 

As the investigation specialist of their little team, Heymans decided to do some digging, digging to see just who Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye really was. It wasn’t a breach in regulation per se, he reminded himself as he snooped through their files the next day, as this was his job. And besides that, wasn’t it prudent to investigate someone who was always so close to the Boss? After all, for all anyone knew, Hawkeye could very well be working for someone else on the side and was biding her time before striking down the Colonel. 

Not that he believed that, but it was an awfully handy excuse if anyone caught him. So when he finally found the Lieutenant’s file, Heymans pulled it out, slipped it into his bag, and exited from the file room. While burning up with curiosity, he knew the benefit of patience and waited until everyone went to lunch before snooping. Not unexpectedly, he watched only a few hours later as the Colonel walked out, commanding the Lieutenant to come with him. 

Once the room was empty, and after waiting a few minutes still, he took up the Lieutenant’s profile and began his own private investigation. 

First-Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Weapons Specialist―Specialty: Firearms. She had good marks through the academy, merits and honors for her service in Ishval. Was recommended for promotion twice by Colonel Mustang himself. No reprimands or marks for insubordination. 

Reading through Hawkeye’s file left Breda a little bored. He’d known all this stuff already. Where were the juice little tidbits? 

Nothing interesting presented itself, though. Not until Heymans saw a family record. While this normally wouldn’t have excited him much either, he realized that he knew nothing of the Lieutenant’s family. She never talked about them, not like the rest of the team…except Mustang. 

Hmm. 

While nothing ground shaking, that similarity between the Colonel and Lieutenant was thought-provoking. He’d never really stop to think too deeply about that. Tucking the information back in his mind, he decided to read on. 

Father: Berthold Hawkeye 1860-1905. Mother: Alma Hawkeye (nee. Grumman) 1862-1891. 

Heymans felt his eyes widen. Grumman? As in Lieutenant-General Grumman?! Was the name some sort of coincidence or was Hawkeye really the granddaughter of the General? If she was, she never said anything about it. In fact, Breda was pretty sure no one would have ever guessed. She certainly never pulled family strings! 

But then, wasn’t the Colonel close to the General? Frowning in thought, Heymans felt completely stupid for forgetting just how cozy Mustang was with the old man. He’d seen the two of them together often enough to know that Grumman favored Mustang above pretty much anyone else. Really, if the old man were anyone’s grandfather, he should have been the Boss’s with the way those two could carry on. 

Maybe Hawkeye was so loyal and took the Boss’s crap because her grandfather was making her? Maybe she was stuck, unable to displease her commanding officer grandfather, and forced to serve Mustang? Or maybe, there was another layer to this: Maybe this was Grumman’s way of keeping an eye on the ambitious young Colonel? 

Suddenly Breda wasn’t so sure what to think anymore. He’d been willing to paint the Boss off as just an average asshole, but now it looked as though the Colonel was either more villainous than he’d thought or a victim. Lieutenant-General Grumman came off not as the old weirdo, but a calculating, almost cruel man that sent his granddaughter in to do other people’s dirty work for him. And the Lieutenant herself…Heymans really wasn’t sure. She was either in on some of this shady looking trading, or she was a completely helpless victim caught in the middle, doomed to obey orders from her superiors. 

There was still a few minutes left in his lunch break, so Breda stood and made his way back to the filing room to return the Lieutenant’s papers, before grabbing a quick sandwich. The rest of the day, he kept his ears open and eyes trained on the Colonel and the Lieutenant as they worked. They both seemed at ease, enacting their familiar routine. 

But was it as innocent and normal as it seemed? 

For the following week, Heymans decided to continue his private research and was even given a wonderful opportunity to go to Central on a mission from the Colonel. It gave him the perfect excuse to go snooping for more information about his superiors. Only this time, he’d be able to gather more information about the Boss, seeing as he’d grown up in Central. 

It took only a day and a half to get what the Colonel wanted accomplished, but with an extra two days to spend, Breda started to make his own inquires. Dressed as a civilian, no one looked twice at him, and as he casually asked around about Roy Mustang, he was surprised no one knew anything outside of the common way. He couldn’t even find an old street address! It was like the man hadn’t existed until Ishval. 

He was about to give up, figuring that the Colonel had really thought ahead of him this time and covered up his past, when he ended up in the poorer district of town. Deciding he needed a drink (and maybe a pretty drinking companion) he ended up in a rather shady brothel. It was technically a ‘bar’ but everyone in the area seemed to know that you could get certain ‘services’ there if you knew how to play the game. 

So, entering, he was not at all displeased to see a lot of pretty women. Some were young, others were a bit older, but definitely not past their prime, and there seemed to be a good mix of cheer and relaxation in the air. And behind the counter at the bar, was the only piece of work that Heymans wished he hadn’t seen. 

That was the mistress of the establishment, he was sure of it. She was the girls’ minder. And a formidable looking one at that. But he knew how to play the game, and so, smiling, he walked over to the bar, pleased that a pretty blonde sat beside him. 

“Good evening, ma’am,” he smiled politely at the Madame. 

“What’ll ya have?” she asked bluntly, tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette. 

“Shot of whiskey to start off with, please.”

His manners didn’t seem to impress her much if the raised, painted eyebrow was any indication. Yet as she turned to get his drink, Breda couldn’t help but think there was something…familiar about that woman. Something around the eyes, maybe? He certainly hadn’t seen her before…had he? 

The cute blonde beside him began chatting, and soon enough, all thoughts of recognition left his mind as he drank and flirted around. Two hours later found him having just enough alcohol to be too comfortable and he began to let slip too-proud boasts, bragging, “―an’ I even work for the famous Flame Alchemist himself, too!” 

The moment it was out of his mouth, he sobered up immediately. There didn’t seem to be anyone in the establishment other than the girls and a few passed out drunks, but then, Heymans knew better than most just how very much loose lips could hurt any cause. 

He was about to laugh and pretend that he had been joking, only to find that the girls were all staring at him now, an array of smiles on their faces. “You know Roy?” one asked in what could only be absolute delight. 

Breda wasn’t sure what to say to that, or what to think, but he was saved by the Madam of the establishment. “Girls, shouldn’t you be working?” She didn’t snap, but her gruff voice was enough to get the younger ladies scurrying about, pretending to be doing something. When Heymans looked over at the Madame again, her eyes were narrowed. 

He’d never quite been so scared in his life. 

“A man in your position really ought to be more careful,” she scolded quietly. “You know what they say, ‘know your place, shut your face’.”

The utterly dark look in the woman’s eyes shut Breda up effectively. But it was then that even in his terrified state, his mind finally made a connection. Those eyes…that look…that air of utter confidence. While Heymans was pretty sure the Boss would be insulted, he couldn’t help but think Mustang and this woman looked…similar. That look of distain could not easily be imitated― that was definitely the Colonel’s! 

Giving a wobbly smile, Breda shrugged. “Jus’ kiddin’, you know?” he lied without a blink. “Never met the guy.”

Madame raised one painted brow, but he didn’t flinch. He could tell she didn’t believe him at all, but Heymans was glad she didn’t call him out. So, after quickly finishing his drink and paying, he made sure to scurry out of the bar. It was only once he was outside, the cool air helping to clear his foggy head a bit more, that he realized one crucial piece of information that had been handed to him: 

Those girls had known Colonel Mustang. 

For a split second the redhead wondered if this was the Colonel’s preferred whorehouse, only to dismiss the thought. Roy Mustang was a lot of things, but he was not that kind of man. If the Boss wanted to sleep with anyone, he’d just flirt around and get a woman in bed for free. In fact, he was willing to bet some women would pay the Colonel to sleep with them! 

But there was a connection between Mustang and this bar. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back to his hotel, Breda’s mind was whirling, trying to figure out this strange puzzle he’d found for himself. 

That woman in there, the Madame, she’d been trying to protect the Colonel, he realized. The moment her own girls had slipped, she covered it up before Heymans could really think about it. And what was more, she―in not so polite terms―warned him off speaking about the Colonel in public. There was a personal connection between the proprietor of that establishment and the Boss. 

The only question was, what was that? 

Once in his hotel room and settled in for the evening, having drank several glasses of water to help clear his mind a little more, Breda decided that that place had to be where the Colonel got information. After all, a lot of lonely officers that he knew of went to seek ‘professional’ help. Maybe the Boss got information about people within Central from there?

It was a tricky puzzle to puzzle over. And as he rode back to Eastern Command two days later, Heymans wished he hadn’t been drunk that night at the bar. His mind was still a little hazy on some of the details, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d really seen the similarities between the Madame and Mustang or if he’d just been thinking too much about the Boss and projected traits of him onto that woman. 

The only thing he knew for sure, was, he was no closer to understanding the relationship between the Colonel and Lieutenant Hawkeye at all. 

Everything was going smoothly, when suddenly, he felt the train lurch. Surprised, Breda poked his head down the aisle to see what was going on. When he saw nothing, save the other startled passengers, he stuck his head out the window. He couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean that there was nothing out there. 

A minute later, the ticket takers were walking down the aisles, informing the passengers that the track several miles up had been ruined, and they were going to have to be delayed for several hours while the crews fixed it. Sitting back in his seat with a huff, Heymans groaned. They were out in the middle of nowhere. What the hell was he supposed to do in the town of Bumblescum (or whatever they’d said its name was)? 

Thankfully they made it to the station in the dinky town, and the passengers were allowed to get off, with the promise to be going again in a few hours. Heymans, bored to tears and starving, when to a local pub to grab something to eat. He knew he should probably call the Boss to tell him he was arriving later than scheduled, but figured it could wait until after he ate. 

He was shown to a table by a pretty young waitress who smiled too much, before being left alone. He was about to bite into the bread that had been left at the table for him, when his ever open ears picked up a very interesting conversation. 

“―still owns it? I mean, after ol’ Bert died?” an old man was asking.

One unfortunate side effect of his job was that Breda was very good at eavesdropping, even when he didn’t want to. But then again, it wasn’t like he had anything else exciting to entertain him, and he found himself listening in just for the sake of being nosey. 

“I think so,” another old man replied. “From what I understand, that daughter of his paid off the debts but managed to keep the house.”

“Think she’d sell the place?” the other asked. 

“You really want that dump?”

“Not interested in the house, if that’s what you mean, but the land’s decent. Thought my son and his new wife might like a place to build.”

There was a pause as the other thought. “Not sure if she’d sell. Don’t rightly know where she went off to. Hasn’t been back here in years.”

“What ever happened to that girl―what was her name?” 

“Oh, now, let me think…It was something unusual…”

“Rita?” 

“That was it! Rita...I think that’s it….” Breda rolled his eyes at the town gossip as he took a bite of bread. “From what I understood, she run off with that apprentice of her father’s. You know, that cocky that smiled too much.”

“The one that’d come from that gin joint?” 

“That’s right.”

“And what was his name again?”

“Oh, I don’t remember,” the old man sighed. “Something strange, too. All those alchemist were strange folk.”

“Hmmm,” the other hummed in agreement. “So that poor girl run off with the city slicker, then.” 

“From what I understood. Hasn’t been back since, what up to my knowledge.”

“Did they at least marry?” the other sounded both worried and condemning at the same time. What a busybody. “Ol’ Bert was a strange bird to be sure, but I can’t believe he’d be too thrilled with the idea of his daughter living with a man unwed.”

“Couldn’t tell ya. But I’d imagine so. You remember how thick those two were, don’t ya? That boy caused all kinds a’ hell, always dragging that girl along with him. Always huggin’ around on her and what not.”

“Now, he was the one that left a’ while and come back, right? Went into the military?” 

“Ah! You’re right. I remember him strutting back into town in those blues.”

“Well, I hope those two are happy together, wherever they ended up. Too bad, though, that that girl didn’t sell the house. Land’s good enough, people would’da bought it up.”

By that time, the old men turned conversation to other perspective properties, and Breda found he couldn’t quite listen anymore. All the old folksy gossip was getting old, especially now since they’d moved on to houses. Granted, that story about a girl running off with a soldier had been a tad exciting. Like a romance novel, two young lovers growing up together before running off into the sunset. And the man being an alchemist from the sound of it! 

Breda found himself wondering what had happened to those two…

After lunch, he called the Boss, explained all that had happened, before going to wait for the train. To pass the time, Heymans listened to the gossip around town. From the sound of it, it was a rather suspicious little place, one that didn’t like anything ‘unnatural.’ It was a poorer place, the land mostly flat. It was ridiculously dull, however, and Breda couldn’t imagine growing up in a place like this. 

Once they finally got moving again, a few hours later found him back at Eastern Command. It was business as usual as far as he was concerned, though he was still bothered by the fact that he had learned next to nothing about either the Colonel or Lieutenant. 

When they were leaving for the evening, Breda found himself following the Lieutenant and Colonel at a distance. They were talking about reports or something, Heymans didn’t care much to listen. Hawkeye’s arms were loaded full of files while the Boss was walking causally with his hands in his pockets. It was all a pretty normal scene as they made it to the stairwell. 

However, a few steps down, just as Breda was about to take his first step, a sharp intake of breath below him caused him to pause. He watched as Lieutenant Hawkeye missed a step and began falling forward, unwilling to drop the files so that she could regain balance. Heymans started to reach out, but knew he was not close enough to do any good. 

Fast as lightning, the Colonel threw himself forward to catch and steady his Lieutenant. It wasn’t how quickly the Boss moved or the fact that he saved Hawkeye from a potentially painful situation that surprised Heymans, but the suddenly worried expression on Mustang’s face. And it wasn’t just a surprised kind of concern. No, it was full-blown, panicked concern. 

“Are you all right?” the Boss asked, once Hawkeye had gotten her feet back under her. 

“Yes, Sir,” the Lieutenant replied immediately, a bit of embarrassment leaking in her tone. But again, Breda was caught off guard when the normally strict Lieutenant released a short giggle. 

“What?” the Colonel asked, a smile immediately coming to his face at the sound. 

“Nothing,” Hawkeye brushed off, before another giggle escaped. “I guess I was just thinking of that time with Mister Miller―”

Mustang’s eyes lit up, “When we―?”

“Yeah, and he started screaming―”

“Because we broke both front wheels!” the Boss finished, both of them laughing now, their mirth ringing against the walls, echoing for all of Command to hear. 

Neither seemed to remember that Breda was witness to their strange interaction. It was not common for either of them to be this…playful with one another. In fact, it was downright creepy. Thankfully, soon enough, they straightened their features back into their normal professional after one more shared look of amusement, before walking on. 

That was weird, Heymans thought as he waited for the pair to walk a little farther ahead of him, not wanting them to realize he’d intruded on their…whatever that had been. 

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bread couldn’t help frown. If he hadn’t known any better, with the way those two had acted just now, he might have suspected there was something going on between the two. Something that wasn’t strictly within regulations. 

But that was ridiculous. 

Both the Boss and Hawkeye might have been close enough for the sharp-shooter to scold her commanding officer now and again, but that was her job. And Mustang was many things, but a complete idiot wasn’t one of them. Even the infamous womanizer would know which ladies he simply could not chase. At least not if he wanted to keep his position and job. 

But then, he just couldn’t shake the feeling once again that those two’s relationship wasn’t what Heymans had thought it was before. 

The way they looked at each other, silent messages being passed between them, information that would never pass their lips, things that perhaps didn’t need to be spoken. The way they somehow seemed to finish each other’s thoughts and sentences sometimes. The way they always moved together, as if it had been coordinated. 

Maybe there was no abuse of power from either the Colonel or the Lieutenant’s sides. Maybe their relationship was exactly what it had first appeared. A small smile curled Heymans’s lips. Yes, the Colonel and Lieutenant were still as thick as ever, the Boss still dragging Hawkeye along with him and the Hawkeye still following orders. They had some kind of understanding between them. 

They were friends, Breda concluded. Good friends that worked well together as a team. 

But what Heymans didn’t know was how deep that friendship went. How far that bond of comradely love stretched, or how it had morphed over the years into something much more. And he never truly would, because they hid their closeness comfortably between the lines of rules and protocol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up Riza's mother's name and her birth date and death date. 
> 
> Also, the "know your place, shut your face" that Madame Christmas uses was apparently a WWII slogan for propaganda. Since I love history, and FMA universe has that WWI/ WWII feel to it, I thought, why not.


	7. Cadence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy finds himself dancing to a different beat.

Normally when at such functions, Roy was in his element. Dress uniform pressed and crisp, white gloves, pretty women in ball gowns, and wine flowing. Yes, a ball was definitely Roy’s scene, the perfect place to not only make connections and schmoozing with the higher-ups, but also an occasion to dance and flirt. There were many beautiful women there tonight, all lace and pearls, blushing and making eyes at him, the newly promoted Brigadier-General Mustang. 

Normally Roy would have launched himself into the thick of things, smiling his best smile, charming everyone within a ten foot radius, and generally flattering everyone within sight as he continued to build his reputation and get on the brass’s good side. 

But not tonight. 

Tonight, the Brigadier stood off to the side watching the couples on the dance floor twirl about with little interest, before scanning once more over the crowd, searching. He was already on his second wine in the last half hour, something he usually tried to pace himself better so he wouldn’t make a total ass of himself, but at the moment, he found he couldn’t care. 

Where was she? 

A survey of the crowd showed Roy that most of his team was here. He could see Havoc in a civilian suit smirking and making moves on an unsuspecting general’s daughter (unbeknownst to Havoc as well), while Breda was at the refreshment’s table. Falman seemed to be off to the side talking to one of the Briggs men, apparently in a fierce debate. Fuery was actually dancing, having found a young lady, who probably had a parent here somewhere―she looked a lot like Matthews. Did Matthews have a kid?―and he even saw Fullmetal and Alphonse talking to a group of well dressed, millionaire types, Winrey on the runt’s arm. 

But where was she?

“Careful with that frown, Brigadier,” a hard voice colored with rare humor pulled him from his thoughts. “Someone might suspect you’re not having a good time.”

Plastering on a smile, knowing that she could see right through it, Roy nodded. “Lieutenant-General Armstrong. You’re looking well this evening. Not that I’m surprised,” he added on for extra charm. 

The blonde snorted, but she wore the shadow of a smile. She was apparently truly having a good time…or had had enough alcohol to mellow her out. The Brigadier knew his competitor in the north had a weakness for southern wines. That’s why he’d been sending them to her for years on her birthday. 

“You seem unusually subdued this evening,” the Lieutenant-General ignored the compliment all together and plowed on with her original inquiry, as usual. “Shouldn’t you be kissing ass right now?”

The Brigadier gave a casual shrug. “I thought I’d give myself a break. I just got promoted, after all.”

The older woman frowned thoughtfully. “Yes. One of the youngest Brigadier in Amestris history, they’re saying.”

“Not to brag,” Roy smirked, feeling yet another swell of pride. Pride in himself. In his team who had helped get him this far. Pride in her. 

“Don’t get cocky,” Armstrong snorted. “You’re still a rank below me.”

“Of course, Ma’am,” Mustang once more smiled his best smile just to piss the blonde off. 

Olivier Armstrong regarded him with those frosty eyes of hers. In the past, Roy might have been nervous, might have been annoyed, but now, after everything that’d happened to him, he just didn’t care. After all, what was Olivier Armstrong compared to homicidal homunculi? To mad scientists and his Führur wanna-be groupies? To the Truth? Roy had learned a lot in the past year, had faced a lot, and he’d come to learn that some things just weren’t worth fearing. 

“Hmm,” the Lieutenant-General nodded, having come to some conclusion, before turning away to stare out at the crowd. “I’ll be lending Major Miles to you for the Isval project,” she said slowly, deliberately. “Don’t think it’s as a favor to you. He wanted to help his people.”

“I wouldn’t dream otherwise,” Roy smirked, taking another drink of wine. He really needed another one. 

“You’re really going to go through with it, aren’t you?” Armstrong frowned. “You’re really going to throw all your weight behind rebuilding Ishval?”

“You weren’t there,” he countered, voice low, all trace of amusement gone. 

“Humph,” the Lieutenant-General sneered before those frosty eyes thawed ever so slightly. “You really are an idiot, Brigadier,” Olivier hid her smirk in her own wine glass looking away as Roy snapped his attention back to her. “You and that Captain of yours. So optimistic, it makes me sick. She really believes you’ll get the job done. She really believes you’ll make it to the top. What a fool.”

Roy stared at the blonde, surprised, but slowly, a warm smile melted his features. He always knew she believed in him, but to hear other people tell him so…

“Misplaced loyalty, surely,” he said with a shrug, making fun of himself more for the sake of covering the affection he felt rather than to entertain Olivier. 

“Obviously,” the Lieutenant-General snorted. “Why else would she follow you everywhere, even to hell?”

While he knew the older woman had known nothing of the established agreement, her words left Mustang breathless. His mind went back years ago, when he’d first heard those words, to just several months ago when she’d wept for him, and his heart twisted. He’d always known she would always be there for him, would follow him forever, but that other people would see it so clearly, after all the denying they’d done over the years, after struggling to keep their affections for one another to themselves…

“Speak of the devil,” Armstrong growled. 

The Brigadier snapped his head up and sucked in a sharp breath. No. Not the devil. An angel. Perfect and pure. Dressed in her dress uniform, pistols at her sides, hair pulled back into a simple bun. Absolutely perfect and gorgeous and everything that Roy found he ever wanted. 

“Lieutenant-General,” Hawkeye nodded respectfully for Armstrong. “Brigadier-General,” she wore a small smile for him. 

“Captain Hawkeye,” Olivier nodded, having a strange sense of respect for the younger woman. “You’ll excuse me. I believe I see one of my men making an ass of himself.”

And with that, the Ice Queen stormed off, leaving dread and fear in her wake. But Roy could hardly be bothered with that. Instead his eyes were for Riza and Riza alone. 

The two newly promoted officers smiled at one another, awkward, shy, before the Brigadier became a little too disgusted with himself. His reputation with the ladies― while not completely true, but not wholly exaggerated―seemed to have abandoned him, but he forced himself to take a step closer towards his Captain. He was a bit too close, invading the neutral zone into what was almost indecent. Hawkeye didn’t step back, but instead looked up into his eyes. 

“Captain Hawkeye,” Roy murmured, voice merely a rumble as he took her hand in his. “May I have this dance?” 

A blush still managed to find its way onto the war veteran’s cheeks, and Roy thanked God for the small innocence that still remained. Apparently she couldn’t find her voice, but she nodded.

As he led her out onto the dance floor, smiling as an easy waltz began to play, he swayed and stepped in time with his Captain, keeping her a little closer than perhaps what decorum dictated. Certainly closer than regulation. But he didn’t care, nor did she seem to. Instead, they swayed together most of the evening, barely speaking, but they didn’t need to. Words were not necessary. 

And while out on the dance floor, together in perfect rhythm, Roy decided that they needed to redefine their relationship, because he found himself dancing to a completely new and wonderful cadence.


	8. Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy takes a bet way too far.

It had started out as a drunken bet, more of a joke than anything else, but for reasons better left unexamined, Roy found himself accepting the challenge and, what was more, intending to keep to the rules and guidelines instead of weaseling his way out. He was Hughes’s commanding officer, he could very well order the man to stop being an idiot. But all it had taken was that damn twinkle in those manic eyes to solidify his resolve and pledge to follow through with the bet.

Sitting at his desk, trying so very hard not to look at everyone that walked into the office, Roy attempted to focus on his work instead of the flowers sitting on Lieutenant Hawkeye’s desk. 

As members of his team started to trickle in, they all stared at the flowers in confusion. “What’s that for?” Breda was the first to brave the question. 

Schooling his expression, allowing a bored look to cross his features, the Colonel glanced over at the half dozen red roses before shrugging indifferently. “Who knows. They were sitting there when I got in.”

It was only a half lie. They were there when he got in…because he’d placed them there. Right where Hawkeye would see them, right where everyone would see them. A half a dozen red roses for the Lieutenant, as per the bet regulations. 

Havoc whistled, a wicked grin on his face. “Lieutenant Hawkeye’s got an admirer, huh? Is there a note?” 

No, but Roy knew better than to answer. He watched covertly as the men of his team poked around the Lieutenant’s desk, trying to find a note or any clue as to who might have given the flowers. They wouldn’t find any. The Colonel had made sure of that. Just a simple half dozen roses sitting innocently on her desk. 

When Hawkeye got in at her usual seven-thirty, she glared at the men surrounding her desk. “What are you doing?” she barked. 

Havoc, Breda, and Fuery scurried away like the roaches they were, while Falman sneered, having stayed at his desk to work, following the Colonel’s example. When the Lieutenant asked once more what they were doing, none of the men were brave enough to answer, just muttering half excuses coded thickly in apology. Unable to help himself, Roy smirked. “They were just looking at the flowers.”

“Flowers?” Hawkeye frowned, before walking towards her desk after hanging up her coat. Staring down at the red blooms, she scowled, picking up the bouquet and turning it over, as though she could divine something more from the simple gift. “Who left this?” 

“As if you don’t know,” Havoc wiggled his eyebrow. 

His tactic to embarrass or fluster the Lieutenant didn’t work. “No. I don’t know,” she replied dryly, before setting the flowers aside and sitting down. She went right to work, the flowers completely ignored. 

An unexpected wash of disappointment hit the Colonel as he watched his First Lieutenant go about her work, the small token completely forgotten almost as soon as it was acknowledged. It wasn’t that he was expecting her to gush and sigh over someone having left her a bouquet, that just wasn’t Hawkeye, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t want a reaction. Riza Hawkeye was the kind of woman that was married to her work, never looking to expand her social life all that much, never giving dating much thought. Roy had expected her to be a little flattered that someone had apparently noticed her in a more romantic inclination. But then again, that was apparently not Hawkeye.

And so the day went by, the Lieutenant never even so much as glancing back at the roses. And when it was time to go home for the day, she walked off without the bouquet. It was Fuery who called her, picking up the flowers and offering them to her with a shy smile. “You forgot these, ma’am.”

Hawkeye stared down at the flowers as if surprised, before smiling slightly. “Right. Thanks, Fuery. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Roy scowled at Fuery’s happy little grin. So, roses apparently weren’t the Lieutenant cup of tea, huh? Well, tomorrow he’d do something a little grander. 

Waking up early the next morning, the Colonel called into a flower shop and arranged for another bouquet to be delivered. He couldn’t very well bring it in himself this time, it was risky, and even if he wasn’t caught, people would begin to assume―correctly―that it was him. The flower shop owner was a good friend of his―after how much money Roy had spent buying flowers for his dates at that place―so he got a hold of the older man through his private line, promising to pay him a little more for the inconvenience of the time of the call. 

So, later that morning found him coming in a little later than the day before, and when he got to the office, Falman and Fuery were already there. They greeted him cheerily enough, before the Colonel sat in his chair and began looking through new reports. Hawkeye came into the office as usual and began looking through her own work.

The morning passed by dreadfully slowly for Roy, and at one point he was doodling on the edge of his notes, before finally there was a knock on the door. Havoc stood and answered. “Well now!” the blond exclaimed in wicked delight. “What have we here?”

The Second Lieutenant stepped aside to let the errand boy from the flower shop pass by, arms loaded with carnations. From his position in the back of the room, Roy could cheerfully watch everyone else’s reactions without them seeing. And while the men were smirking or staring in confusion, Hawkeye was frowning. Was that a surprised frown or an annoyed frown? He couldn’t quite tell from this angle. 

“I’ve got flowers for a…” the boy looked down at his delivery card. “Miss Riza Hawkeye?”

“Miss Riza is right here,” Havoc grinned widely, gesturing over dramatically to the only woman in the room. 

The boy, a little nervous, probably not comfortable being in the military base, smiled as he walked over to the Lieutenant. Hawkeye took the offered bouquet, still frowning. “Thank you,” she murmured, looking the bundle over for a note. 

“Yup! Sure thing,” the boy smiled before turning and quickly rushing out of the room. 

Everyone watched the Lieutenant as she puzzled over the new flowers. Pleased with himself, Roy took a moment to admire his subordinate with the pink and white bouquet in her hands. They looked well against her pale skin. Surely this would elicit a reaction from her. Roses were too common, too over done. Carnations were different. 

But before the Colonel’s renowned ego could inflate too much, Hawkeye once more disappointed him as she all but threw the bouquet to the corner of her desk and turned back to her work. Astonished, Roy couldn’t stop himself from asking, “You don’t like them?”

Thankfully, before anyone could ponder over his tone, Breda was already talking, more interested in the Lieutenant than the Colonel. “Yeah. Who is this guy that keeps sending these?”

Hawkeye shrugged. “I don’t know who it is, and I honestly don’t care. Now, we all have work to do, so get to it.”

And with that, they were all turning back to their paperwork, the carnations sitting forgotten. Roy stared at the woman in front of him incredulously, before schooling his features into something more neutral. 

She didn’t care? Oh, he would make her care! This wasn’t about the bet anymore. Hughes could kiss his ass. The Lieutenant had thrown down the gauntlet and made it personal. Fuming, but hiding his scowls behind paperwork, he busily went about the rest of his day. His resolve to take on Hawkeye’s unknown challenge only solidified when they were leaving the office and Fuery once again walked with the Lieutenant to the door. 

“Those really are pretty, Lieutenant,” the young man smiled. 

“You think so?” Hawkeye looked down at the flowers in her hands. “Well then, here,” she said, give a couple to the Sergeant. 

The young man beamed, thanking her, before the two walked out of the office, still chatting amiably. The Colonel watched them. Incensed. 

There was a reason Roy Mustang was doing well in the military, a reason why he was climbing the ranks with the speed he was. That night, spurred on by his anger, he sat in his lonely little apartment and began devising his next plan of attack. Hawkeye’s defense was formidable, but Roy was certain he could break through her ranks and deliver a lethal blow. Let’s just see her shrug off his next bouquet! Let’s just see her give them away like they didn’t matter! 

And the next day, at the same time, when the delivery boy came in with bright red and yellow poppies, the group watched as again Hawkeye frowned at the flowers. And with shattered hope, Roy observed as she set them aside with an irritated sigh. Thankfully, she didn’t give any of these away, but it was clear from her expression that it wasn’t because she didn’t want to. 

The next day, it was Sunflowers, big and bright and happy. She stared at them a moment, set them in the corner of her desk, and actually looked at them once during the day. Roy counted it a small victory, until Havoc accidently knocked them over, stepping on them in his haste to try and save them too late. The Colonel was forced to watch as Hawkeye picked them up and threw them away. 

That Friday, he sent white and red Zinnias. She took one look at them and scrunched up her nose. Next he sent assorted chrysanthemums. She rolled her eyes. Orchids got a raised eyebrow, Lilies got a snort. Snapdragons, tulips, none of them seemed to make much of a difference to her. And by the beginning of the next week, when Roy had sent gladiolus, Hawkeye finally lost her temper. 

“Ugh!” she nearly screamed once the delivery boy had gone. “Why the hell is someone sending me all of these damn flowers?!” Face flushed, chest heaving, eyes wild with barely concealed rage, Roy watched his Lieutenant with a mixture of fascinated attraction and embarrassed guilt. 

Well…he’d finally gotten a reaction from her, he thought with more sorrow than he really had a right in feeling. After all, he was the one that spammed her with flora for two weeks. He should have stopped with the roses, that was all the bet really was, just leave the Lieutenant anonymous flowers and see what she did. He’d taken it way too far by continuing. 

Not unsurprisingly, Hawkeye requested (demanded) to have a few days off, ill at the thought that she’d receive more flowers at the office. Of course Roy accepted the request, forcing himself to laugh and smirk at the woman who watched his back. He even ‘offered’ to take care of any flowers that might come in her absence. It made the Colonel feel a little sick with guilt when she just stared at him blandly, like she knew the offer wasn’t as good as it sounded, before storming out of the office, leaving behind the gladiolus. Whether it was because she had forgotten them or, more likely, she wanted whoever was sending her the flowers to see them discarded, left to die, was anyone’s guess. 

Roy ended up taking that bunch home, boldly telling the guys he could use them on his date the following evening―which he didn’t have. And as he walked home, bouquet in hand, the Colonel decided to detour and walk through the park. Some part of him hope that maybe Hawkeye was there already, walking Hayate, but of course she wasn’t. She’d only left fifteen minutes before him. 

So, finding a nice bench, the Colonel sat down, carefully setting the flowers beside him. They really were beautiful, all of them had been. Each flower had its own unique meaning, each color a specific code. While part of him knew what he’d been trying to convey, the greater part tried not to think about just what kind of message he had been trying to send to his Lieutenant. Tried not to remember the specific meanings of each flower he’d painstakingly chosen for her. Of how much he’d wanted her to delight in the small tokens he’d left for her. 

Tomorrow he’d have to order flowers again, it would look too suspicious if they just stopped right when she walked out. While not always the brightest when it came to romance, his men were sharp. That’s why he’d chosen them for his team, they’d realize soon enough that one of them was behind the flowers instead of just someone in the building. Roy had done his part, had teased and laughed and mocked along with the rest of them, hiding behind the mask he’d long ago perfected. He’d keep it up for a few days until it was believable that word had tricked down the chain that Hawkeye rejected the gifts and was definitely not interested. 

And so, the following day, the office seemed a lot emptier and a lot more lax without the presence of his Lieutenant. Half-heartedly, he ordered hyacinth and the following day, petunias. As ‘promised’ he took them home, scowling blackly at them, but knowing he deserved to stare at them, their meanings only too clear to him. Thankfully, gossip about the Lieutenant’s fury over the flowers had spread sufficiently around the base, and Roy didn’t have to order anymore flowers, much to the disappointment of his staff. 

Hawkeye’s absence was miserably felt by the Colonel on the last day of her leave time. In fact, most of the men took note of their superior’s rather depressed mood and kept out of his way. It was Thursday, the weekend just around the corner, but even that bright thought didn’t cheer him. His stomach twisted with anxiety and guilt and just plain sadness. He was a colossal jerk, but by the end of the day, he felt that Hawkeye shared the title as well. After all, what kind of woman didn’t even try to find her secret admirer? What woman would just outright spurn such lovely gifts and never even seem grateful? 

Friday came, and by the time Lieutenant Hawkeye walked into the office, coming early to look over things and catch up a bit from what she’d missed the last few days, she came in to find a single flower sitting on her desk, a small note attached. 

The Colonel sat in his desk chair, studiously ignoring her as she picked up the perfect red camellia bloom. He heard the slight rustling of the paper as she unfolded the note before the room was plunged into silence. Several long, torturous minutes passed before Roy couldn’t stand it anymore. Peeking up over his report, he saw the Lieutenant still holding the camellia and staring down at the note. 

When amber eyes suddenly slide over the glare at him, the Colonel felt himself swallow. Shit. Maybe he should have thought this out better?

“It was you?” Hawkeye demanding, coming to stand near the Colonel’s desk, hands posted on her hips. “You’re the one who sent me all those flowers?” 

There were not many people left in Amestris that could make Roy Mustang cower, but Riza Hawkeye was certainly one of them. Trying not to look too much like a little child afraid of their mother’s punishment, the Colonel nodded miserably. 

“You sent all those flowers for almost three full weeks, and now all I get is another flower with a note that says ‘sorry’?” the Lieutenant cried indignantly, clearly wrestling with not striking her superior office. “Why would you do this, Sir?” she demanded. “Was this some kind of joke?”

“No! Well…yes. Maybe. At the beginning,” he amended, before feeling his face heat up, causing him to rub at his neck awkwardly. “Would you believe that it started as a drunken bet?”

“Yes,” Hawkeye replied too quickly, a bitter twist to her lips. 

“Look, I’m sorry,” Roy managed to say out loud. “I didn’t…It was just harmless fun.”

“Spamming me with three weeks’ worth of flowers?” 

Roy had no good comeback for that. Whatever he was going to say, she was going to hate it and he was going to suffer either way. He didn’t exactly want to admit that the bet had only been to leave roses and then leave it at that. He didn’t want to admit that he had taken it way too far for reasons that were better left unclear. Nothing he could say would appease the righteous anger, nor ease the pain in his chest as he stared into her indignant features. 

“I’m sorry,” Roy said quietly. 

Hawkeye scoffed, but said nothing. The infamous lady killer couldn’t look into the face of his own Lieutenant, and so stared down at his desk, waiting for something to happen. The seconds stretched out into eternity, before he heard the blonde sigh. 

Glancing up, he watched as the Lieutenant took a step closer. Roy held himself stiff, waiting for some kind of attack, only to watch in amazement as she thread the flower through his coat button, the red standing out starkly against the blue. And while he stared down at the flower, a sudden light pressure of lips against his cheek startled him enough to snap his head towards the Lieutenant, eyes wide. She gave a shy smile as she straightened back up. 

“Fraternization is dangerous,” her voice was soft, eyes even more so, before she walked back to her desk and sat down, jumping right into work. 

When the others got into the office, they all moaned at having ‘missed’ the Lieutenant’s latest offering, pointing to the flower on the Colonel’s coat. “What happened to the rest of them?” Havoc asked. “You throw them out already?”

“And why did you give the Colonel one?” Fuery asked innocently. 

Hawkeye, keeping her face as straight as always, glanced over at the Colonel, who was trying to ignore the group, before she shrugged. “Camellia suit the Colonel much better.”

And behind his papers, Roy smiled warmly. Maybe the Lieutenant really had been getting his messages after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Red camellia: flame of my heart


	9. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza decides to do some undercover surveillance.

He had another date. 

Again. 

That made three this week with three different women. 

Disgusting. 

Lieutenant Hawkeye watched her boss smiling stupidly as he gabbed on the phone with his latest conquest. It was one of Havoc’s old girlfriends. The type of woman who had taken one look at the Colonel and decided she could do better than a Second-Lieutenant. It revolted Riza to her core. 

Why did men waste their time on such terrible women, Riza wondered? Pretty or not, that girl was obviously a tease, just shagging any high ranking officer she could find. And unfortunately, she’d met Roy Mustang, Amestris’s leading expert on hooking up. 

Glaring at her commanding officer, who was reclining casually as he chattered on and on about how beautiful the girl―what was her name again? Jessica? Tina?―was and how much fun they were going to have tonight. What a thoughtless jerk. Beside her, Havoc was glaring down at his work, obviously trying not to listen to the man that had inadvertently (advertently?) stolen his girlfriend. 

Enough was enough. 

Standing, making sure her chair scrapped as loudly as possible, the First-Lieutenant marched over to the Colonel’s desk and slammed down a thick stack of papers. That got the man’s attention. As he stared up in confusion at the blonde above him, asking the woman on the other line to hold, he asked, “What’s this, Lieutenant?’ while covering the mouthpiece with his hand. 

“Work, Sir,” Riza replied crisply. “You ought to start getting it done instead of wasting your time on the phone.”

Of course her rudeness caused him to scowl, but, Riza was scowling too. The idiot needed to do his work, and quite frankly, he was already on a short leash for not meeting his deadline last week on an important case. He couldn’t afford to piss off anyone else in the higher ups at the moment. 

As the two most dominate personalities in the room glared at one another, eventually Mustang folded, heaving a dramatic sigh before pouting. Riza only glared harder. So, wisely knowing he’d been beaten, the Colonel wrapped up his conversation with his latest date―maybe it had been Stephanie?― and got back to work. 

The rest of the day went by in relative calm, the Colonel actually being productive for once. Well, as much as Mustang could be with the prospect of his date looming ever closer. He did call a flower shop to order something to bring for his date, but since it was at his lunch hour, Riza didn’t feel she had to right to intervene again. 

But as the day went by, Riza noticed how miserable Havoc really was at knowing his last girlfriend had once again dumped him the moment she laid eyes on the Colonel. It made Riza feel terrible for the other man. While she knew that it wasn’t completely the Colonel’s fault, women always seeming to flock to him no matter if he looked at them or not, the Colonel still hadn’t declined or stopped things from progressing. In the end, he was just as guilty as the lady, Riza supposed. Maybe it was time to put an end to all this ridiculous romancing around. 

That night, as they all decided to close up for the night and the Colonel left to get ready for his date, Riza came up with a plan. The Colonel was always such a cocky bastard, always going on and on about the women he’d dated― well this time things wouldn’t go as planned. Riza decided that she’d trail the Colonel and find a way to ruin the date. Or at least collect entail to figure out how the Colonel was able to keep getting dates all the time like this. For Havoc’s sake, of course, since the poor man always seemed to come in second next to Mustang. 

So, once she got home, the Lieutenant showered and made reservations at the same restaurant she’d heard the Colonel going on about today. Thankfully, since it would just be her, there was an open table. And after she had quickly changed into a silky black number and twisted up her hair in a bun with a scarf, even putting on her fake glasses in the hopes of not being recognized too soon, the Lieutenant left after calling a cab. 

When the cab had pulled up to the restaurant, Riza could see the Colonel standing outside waiting. She sucked in a sharp breath. He looked…good. More than good. He’d slicked back his hair, only a strand or two rebelling and hanging down on his forehead in a playful manner. And of course, he was wearing one of his many three piece suit, looking damn good in it, just like he always boasted he did. In his hands was a large bouquet of red and white gladiolus. 

For a moment, Riza found herself fantasizing that he was out there waiting for her. That he’d brought those lovely flowers to give to her. It wouldn’t be hard to get out of the cab and stroll over to him, perhaps force him to forget about his date with whatsherface, and maybe stay to dine with her instead. 

But such imaginings were better left in books. Fraternization laws had been drilled into her head enough to know that should she even look at the Colonel too often all misty eyed, she’d get a reprimand so fast, she’d be demoted to corporal before she could blink. And besides, she wasn’t the Colonel’s type, seeing he had a theme of cheap and easy going on lately. 

All too soon, however, a leggy brunette sauntered over to the Colonel, smiling prettily and utterly gushing with fake joy. Disgusting. But ever the gentleman, Mustang offered her his arm and the two walked into the building, the woman with her arms full of gladiolus. 

Stepping out of the cab, making sure to pay, Riza, too, made her way inside. She got quite a few stares as she walked in―probably because of the dress, she thought a little self-consciously― and made sure to keep her shawl around her shoulders, lest anyone see the tattoo. And in no time, she was seated at a little table meant for two, not terrible far from where the Colonel and his date sat. In fact, she was lucky he hadn’t noticed her. 

So, sitting with her back to the Colonel, Riza found herself in the interesting position of being near enough to hear the Colonel and his date without being directly in their line of sight. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize her. This was too close. Why had she even thought this was a good idea again?

“These are such lovely flowers, Roy,” the woman was saying. “And you got them just for me?”

Riza could just image the Colonel flashing that sinfully charming smile of his. “Of course. Lovely gladiolus for a lovely lady.”

The Lieutenant tried not to gag as the other woman sighed. “Oh, Roy. You’re so romantic! I wonder what they could possibly stand for?”

“Their meaning is for remembrance, strength of character, honor, infatuation, and faithfulness.” The Colonel was quick to show off his knowledge. 

Well…that didn’t exactly sound like the kind of flower the Colonel should be handing out to the kinds of dates he had. Especially on the first one. With his track record lately, he wouldn’t even be seeing this lady again after tonight. Gladiolus sounded more like the kind of flower one should give a wife, not some fluzy he was looking to take home before dumping her the next day. 

But Roy Mustang obviously knew what he was doing. Another dreamy sigh escaped his date. “That’s so sweet. They’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like them. They’re my favorite.”

His favorite? 

Hawkeye took a sip of water, wondering how she had never known the Colonel’s favorite flower before. But then again, with meanings like that, it did seem fitting somehow. The fact that one of his hookups knew more about the Colonel’s personal likes and dislikes than her, however, burned heavily in Riza’s gut. Why didn’t she get to know things like this about the man she served so faithfully? Why didn’t he tell her little things like this after all she did for him? 

“That’s so sweet, Roy,” the woman continued on in her too-sweet voice. “So then, why are they your favorite?” 

Without a pause, voice full of warmth, Riza sat shocked, eyes bugging out, as the Colonel replied, “Because they remind me of my Lieutenant.”

The restaurant seemed to still, even as the chatter from around the other tables continued. The Colonel’s table was silent, and Riza dearly wished she could have seen what was going on, but dared not turn around. 

Had he really just…? What did that …?

“Your…lieutenant?” came the incredulous reply. 

“Uh…yeah. Anyway,” the Colonel pushed on quickly with a laugh. “How was your day?” 

Somehow the Colonel managed to turn the awkward transition into smooth conversation. As Riza ordered her own food, she couldn’t help flush as she thought about her superior’s response. Did he really like those flowers because they reminded him of her? Or was there some other lieutenant that Riza wasn’t aware of? That was certainly a bizarre thing to overhear, but then again, something in Riza’s chest loosened, and she couldn’t quite wipe the smile off her face as she continued to listen as she ate, completely forgetting all thought of ruining the date behind her. 

The conversation really wasn’t too interesting. Misty―that was her name!―worked at a grocer and wasn’t all that exciting. She complained a lot about other workers and not much else. Other than the fact that she was hoping to go shopping soon for some new clothes, she had nothing else to say and often repeated herself. In so many ways, she was the basic fluzey Mustang always seemed to get himself caught up with. 

When the Colonel spoke, he talked mostly about the day in the office, steering clear of all confidential information and his own plans, of course. Surprisingly, Riza’s name popped up in the conversation several times. In fact, in the end, the Colonel ended up telling Misty a story all about how Hawkeye had saved him once after a particularly nasty fight with a would-be terrorist a couple years back. 

Hearing him praise her so unashamedly, listening to the awe and respect in his voice as he did so, caused the Lieutenant to flush from her toes to her hair roots. He’d never told her so much as a ‘thank you’ for that, settling for a nod before moving on. He never really acknowledged her hard work most of the time either. Yet here he was, singing her praise to a stranger, sounding so proud that he was about ready to burst. 

Did he always sound like this to other people when he spoke of her? Had Riza really just not noticed how much he admired her?

After only an hour or so, it became obvious that Misty was becoming disenchanted with the Colonel. Why, Riza wasn’t sure. The Colonel had been nothing but polite and delightful and witty, yet by the time the waiter asked if they would be having dessert, Misty had gotten up and stormed out of the restaurant all together. Riza watched her stomp off, confused and angry on the Colonel’s behalf. 

“Damn,” she heard Mustang mutter. “Third one this week.”

Third one …?

Wait. 

Had the Colonel’s dates not been going well this week? Did this mean this was the third date this week that had walked out on him? 

Fury washed over Riza at the thought. Who in their right mind would walk out on Colonel Roy Mustang? Especially after such a charming evening? What was that woman’s problem? First she dumped Havoc because she was an idiot, then she went after the Colonel, only to walk out on him?! Who did she think she was? 

What a complete and total fool. 

Without thinking, Riza stood up from her table and walked over to the Colonel. He was staring rather blankly at the bouquet of flowers still on the table, nursing a wine glass. He didn’t look hurt or depressed that his date had just up and abandoned him. If anything, he seemed contemplative, maybe a little sad. Unable to stand that look, the Lieutenant cleared her throat. 

The Colonel glanced up, before his eyes widened in surprise. But the shock didn’t last, as a self-depreciating smirk soon wormed its way to his lips. “Evening, Lieutenant. Fancy meeting you here.”

“May I join you, Sir?” she asked, taking off her glasses.

Still smiling, he stood and helped her into the other chair, pushing it in for her. Sitting down across from him, Riza suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “I…I’m sorry about your date,” she offered awkwardly, unsure what to say, once he’d regained his seat. 

The Colonel shrugged, the move nonchalant. “It happens. So, tell me, did Havoc send you?”

Blushing, Riza shook her head. “No. It was my idea to come…though I was going to tell Havoc what happened here.”

The rich laugh caught the blonde by surprise. “Guess you’ll have quite a story to tell, huh? I may never live this down, I hope you realize.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Sir,” Riza promised quietly. “I…I think it’s horrible what that woman did. Just up and left for no reason.”

“She had a reason.”

Surprised, the blonde looked up, locking eyes with dark onyx. Something passed between them, the intensity in the Colonel’s eyes hard to miss. But for the life of her, Riza just couldn’t make sense of his meaning. Had she missed something? Had the Colonel done something to upset the woman? She truly hadn’t heard anything. 

“Sir?” 

The (in)famous smirk he usually adorned came out rather cheerless (and rather affectionate). “Would you care for dessert, Lieutenant?” 

Not knowing what to say, Hawkeye agreed, and together she and the Colonel ate dessert and drank wine. The waiter seemed a little surprised to come and find the Colonel with another woman, but wisely said nothing. And so the evening went on, one of the best Riza had had in a long time. Much better than just sitting alone at home with Black Hayate reading in the silence. 

And just like that, an hour and a half flew by and the Colonel was walking her home. In the cold night air, he slipped off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, offering her his arm. A bit tipsy from the wine, Riza accepted it, smiling as she smelled the gladiolus in her other arm. 

Nearly half an hour later found them outside the Lieutenant’s apartment, and the Colonel walked her up, holding the flowers as she unlocked the door. 

Turning around, Riza found herself feeling a little shy. “Sorry about your date tonight, Sir…But I had a nice time.”

Mustang chuckled. “I did too,” he smiled, handing her the flower. And before she could have said another word, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. “Good night, Lieutenant.”

Riza’s hand went to her lips, and she knew her face was probably as red as the flowers in her arms. 

“And, Lieutenant?” the Colonel stepped back, giving the frozen woman some much needed space. “Green’s a good color on you.”

Riza only stared a moment longer before turning around and all but slamming the door shut in the Colonel’s face. As she leaned back against the door, a giggle burst from her chest and she found she couldn’t quite stop. On the other side of the door, she heard Colonel Mustang’s low chuckle before it was replaced by the echoes of his footfalls down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I firmly believe that a tipsy Riza is a giggly/girly Riza. I accept nothing less!


	10. Hanged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: You will hate me after this. Seriously. You will.

“Former Führur Roy Mustang, for your crimes against humanity in Ishval, you are hereby sentenced by this court to be hanged tomorrow morning. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd was instantly in an uproar, several people calling out in protest, but Roy sat still as stone, an air of acceptance about him. 

It worked, was the only real thought that played through his mind. It had worked. All of his plans, his dreams, they had all come true. He’d made it to the top, he’d become Führur. He’d reestablished the democracy. He’d seen to the recovery of Ishval. And now…

Now he’d been tried and convicted for his sins. 

While the protests continued, the former Führur stood, bowed to the judge, before turning easily and walking out of the courtroom, shouts and screams following after him. Because they all knew he would not run, he was allowed to leave under his own power, free to stay in a guarded room, well furnished, for his last night in the world. 

Years later, the guards would comment on how eerie it was to watch as the former Führur Mustang smiled just a bit when he left from his hearing, more peaceful than a man sentenced to hang had a right to be. 

But as it was, Roy was truly and deeply content. For the first time since before the war, he felt wholly at peace. He’d done it. At last he would be able to properly pay for his sins. He would finally be able to redeem himself and close the chapter of life completely, taking all knowledge of flame alchemy with him. Of the Truth. 

That night, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Roy found himself laughing, tears streaming from his eyes. How wonderful this all was! Things could not have turned out better! Not only would Amestris be saved, the country growing stronger and healthier by the day, not only would all his sins at last be rectified, all of his people would be safe and well. His friends. 

It had been decided that only State Alchemists that had served in Ishval would be executed for their crimes, other personal and soldiers would be acquitted as they had only been following orders. Several higher ranking officers in charge of the Ishval slaughter would also be executed, but largely, those personally responsible for mass killings were the ones that were rightfully being punished more severely. 

He didn’t sleep that night, not because he was scared or worried, but because he was so excited. And besides, soon he’d be sleeping for eternity. Losing eight hours of rest to ponder in the dark for the last time was not that great of a sacrifice. 

There was a huge crowd gathered for his execution the next day, several large demonstrations having gathered in an attempt to free the former Führur, who they believed to be a hero. A hero! Him! What a joke! They should have seen him in Ishval. Should have seen him ruthlessly claw his way to the top. 

He was no hero. 

As the list of charges were being read, Roy took a moment to scan the crowd. In the front, fighting the hardest against the guards, were Edward and Alphonse Elric. Of course they’d be fighting. Despite how they’d grown, they were still children. They didn’t understand, and quite frankly, Roy wasn’t sure they ever would. Their attempts were futile. If they sat and thought of all this rationally, they’d see the necessity of what he was doing, had done. Not all lives could be spared. 

Off to the other side, he could see his old team standing silently, grim faced. Havoc was smoking, a habit the man had quit but apparently picked back up for the day. Strangely, it brought a smile to Roy’s lips. Beside Havoc was Breda, tears in his eyes. Fuery was outright crying in front of a bleak Falman. They did not struggle or protest, but stood stoically. They’d known the plan from the very beginning, and Roy was proud of all of their hard work and dedication. 

To another side were General Armstrong and Colonel Alex Armstrong. Thankfully, because of his refusal to fight years ago, the large man had been acquitted of his involvement in Ishval. The General looked the same as always to Roy’s eyes, save for a tightness around her eyes. The Colonel was openly weeping. 

There was a group of Ishvalans in attendance, too, Scar among them. There was a stern look about the ex-convict, a sort of worried relief. Since it was their homeland and people who had been destroyed, representatives had been asked to attend to see the punishments through. Roy was glad they had come. He was doing this, had done everything, for them. 

Once the charges were read, and the people pushed back and quieted, the hangman tied the noose around the former Führur’s neck. “Would you like a blindfold, Sir?” he asked quietly. 

Roy shook his head, feeling the rope scratch against his skin. 

“Any last words, Führur Mustang?”

Taking a moment to think, Roy searched the crowd, eyes frantically scanning for the one person he had yet to see, the one person he wanted to see most. Just when panic started to set in, he found her. Standing directly in front of him, face set in stone, large eyes wide and sorrowful. Roy smiled. 

Locking eyes with Riza, Roy said quietly, knowing she would read his lips, “I love you.”

And with nothing else to say, the hangman pulled the lever to the hatch, and Roy’s body plunged downward. He tried to keep eye contact with her, wanting his last sights in the world to be of her. But when his neck snapped and his throat choked, everything went dark, the last thing he would ever see again being a tiny, watery smile on Riza’s lips. He didn’t fight death, but let it come, relieved and joyful that he was finally finished and at peace with the world, knowing that his Riza would be safe, and the child she carried along with her.


	11. Meander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riza knows Roy needs a break.

He was doing it again. More and more, he was becoming unhinged, obsessed over things he just could not control. There was nothing more he could do, nothing more that any of them could do except wait and see. 

But that wasn’t the way Roy Mustang worked. Since the first time she met him, Riza knew that the Colonel was a man that didn’t like mysteries. He liked to know everything. Worked to know everything, and became furious when something came between him and the knowledge he sought. It was what made him a worthy scholar. 

It was what made him manic. 

Something had to be done, and the Lieutenant knew that if she didn’t intervene soon, the Colonel would be lost in a fit of not only fury, but despair. He would hurt not only everyone around him one way or another, he’d hurt himself. 

“Sir?” she said quietly, waiting for him to yell at her. 

He didn’t disappoint. “Not now, Lieutenant!” he snarled. “Can’t you see I’m working?”

“There’s nothing left to work on, Sir,” she replied softly, hating to see him so frenzied. 

“No! There’s just something I’ve missed! It had to be one of them, I know it! I don’t buy the Ross accusation, not even for a second! It was one of those damn homunculi, I know it! I just don’t know which one. I just don’t know where to find them. I―”

Knowing she was overstepping protocol, Riza placed a hand on her superior’s shoulder. The touch, old and familiar, yet stale from having been abandoned years ago in favor of regulations, stalled the Colonel’s rant. Instead, dark eyes at last turned to stare up into amber. Silent messages were passed between the two, always silent, never able to be spoken out loud for fear of discovery. 

Discovery by each other. 

Without taking her eyes from the Colonel’s, Riza’s hand slid down the shoulder, down the arm, until she took his hand in hers. Just the tiniest shiver passed over the man as his eyes slid shut, weariness springing forth, years suddenly added on to the youthful face. And with one gentle tug, the Lieutenant helped her superior to his feet before releasing his hand. 

With eyes only, directions were given, and the two officers left the confines of their office and made their way through the halls. Neither spoke, neither had to, but they walked together, close, shoulders nearly touching. Ignoring others as they strolled out the door, Hawkeye gentle pushed the Colonel towards the garden area in the back of the building. And continuing on in silence, they strolled around the tiny park. 

It was a nice day out, the sun shining, the sky clear, and the weather had greatly improved since the week before. Flowers were still in bloom, and the leaves on the trees rustled in the wind. Birds chirped merrily in the branches, unaware of the happenings of the wide world, causing a surge of jealousy to shoot through the Lieutenant. How much easier would life be if she was just a bird? Able to fly away from all her problems, never tied down to the earth? 

A heavy sigh to her left ceased all frivolous longing, and Riza turned to stare at her superior. The Colonel glanced at her, jerking his head slightly, indicating a nearby bench. Together, the two sat and for several minutes watched the wind blow through the garden. 

“You know,” the Colonel’s quiet voice startled the silence, “he’d probably laugh at me right now. Sitting here, wandering through the park when I have so much work to do.” The quiet voice hitched, but didn’t break. “He’d probably accuse me of finding a new way to avoid deadlines.”

While the man did not cry, his eyes were wet, and Riza found her own vision was blurring with tears. But neither one would shed them. Soldiers like them spent too much time in the past crying. They knew tears never made anything better. They couldn’t make up for everything done. Tears solved nothing. 

But Riza wanted to cry. Wanted to cry because her superior would not. She’d seen him cry once, and only once for Hughes. He did not bother wasting much time on tears anymore. After Ishval, most of his tears had been burned away. It was rare to see him draw on the precious well he still had left. 

She, on the other hand, wept often. Not for anyone else to see, only in private, at night, in the dark. Sometimes the Colonel saw, however, a knowing look in his dark eyes. He knew, yet he never said a word. Neither ever did. 

Silence stretched between them before the Lieutenant found her voice. “No one would accuse you of that now, Sir. I’m with you.” 

A laugh escaped the Colonel, empty and brittle, but a laugh all the same. The first one since the funeral. “I suppose you’re right.”

They sat still a little while longer, before getting up to continue their easy stroll through the gardens. Some of the tension in the Colonel’s shoulders had eased, and it caused Hawkeye to relax a bit, too. And while alone, after the tension of the day, she allowed her hand to brush his lightly, never grasping, but lightly skimming his skin with her own. A sign to let him know he wasn’t alone. A sign to show him that she was still alive. And so was he. 

As they made their slow ramble back into the office, no longer able to delay their responsibilities, the Colonel turned and stared at his subordinate, a familiar gleam in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he nodded, before marching over to his desk and picking up reports that did not have to do with the Hughes murder, and getting straight to work. 

And Riza smiled, because he was all right now. She smiled because he was once again strong enough to move past his own pain and sorrow to do what needed to be done. She smiled because she was proud of him.

But she would never say such things out loud, nor did he expect her to. Theirs was a silent support, a quiet encouragement. A love only truly seen when out meandering through the park.


	12. Shattered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scar takes some time to reflect.

When the newly appointed Brigadier-General Mustang had promised to help with the reconstruction of Ishval, Scar hadn’t really believed it. Not that he didn’t think minor assistance would be provided, but he certainly hadn’t held his breath. He truly thought that the extent of the blue-eyed devils support would be in materials, maybe a little money. But Amestris had sent much more than the former fugitive had expected.

All thanks to Mustang. 

As he looked out over the small army of soldiers— all working with Ishvalans to help rebuild, some passing out supplies and food— it all went above and beyond his wildest expectation. Not only had Mustang kept his word and all of his grandiose promises thus far, the new General had gone further than merely sending help. Mustang was here. 

During the war, and even after, Scar had heard stories of the infamous Flame Alchemist, a man that could incinerate an entire block with just a snap of his fingers. The Hero of Amestris― the Villain of Ishval. A man that was clearly so ambitious, he’d even organized people to overthrow the government in a bid to make himself Führur, or at least get him that much closer. 

And it had worked. 

Mustang was now a Brigadier-General, the Hero of the Coup. A Hero of Promise Day. One who had seen the Truth. One who had helped rebuild the government and turned his wildly aspiring sights on Ishval. Who had, thus far, done everything within his powers to restore the nation he had once helped to annihilate. 

The man was a complete and total mystery, certainly more complex than what first met the eye. The first time Scar had come face to face with the Flame Alchemist, he’d thought Mustang was nothing more than a pompous fool. If it hadn’t been for that Lieutenant of his―now a Captain― the idiot would be dead by Scar’s hand. Mustang had seemed just like all the other dogs of the military, nothing special. 

But then Scar found himself working with the Elrics, and in turn, had met with the then-Colonel again. He had watched Mustang, too. He’d watched as the man became completely unraveled, the need for revenge eating away at his soul. He’d watched in slight terror as the man singlehandedly destroyed a homunculus, burning it over and over again until he had nearly destroyed it completely. He’d watched the man fall into near insanity, only being truly pulled out of his bloodlust by the woman he kept by his side. 

And then Scar had watched as the once bloodthirsty man turned around and fought the evils of the world with a heart so stout and noble, it was like seeing a hero-prince from the old fairytales. Never before had Scar seen a man struggle so hard between the lines of right and wrong, especially so close after a victory beforehand. To have overcome his hatred and not destroying the creature known as Envy, only to be made to watch as the woman he cared for be cut down right before his eyes…Scar wasn’t sure he would have had the strength to say ‘no’ to that mad scientist’s request to perform human transmutation. 

But Mustang hadn’t given in. Mustang had truly surprised Scar. Not only did the then-Colonel deny himself the relief of saving his Lieutenant, he’d refused to commit the ultimate sin. And when Mai and the others had come, Scar had noticed that Mustang did not fight, did not seek more revenge, but instead, ran to the side of his woman, holding her in what very well could have been her last moments of life. It was then that Scar knew what kind of man Mustang truly was― choosing to protect rather than destroy. 

That decision had, ultimately, mattered little when Bradley showed up, pinning Mustang down and forcing him through the Portal to see the Truth and become a sacrifice. Next Scar had seen of the Colonel, he’d been forced through hell, used, violated, and blinded for a sin he did not willingly commit. But that wasn’t all, despite being blind, the man had still fought, using his Lieutenant as his eyes, desperate to do his part in ending Father. 

There were not many people left in the world that Scar admired, but as he watched Brigadier-General Mustang smiling as he handed some bottled water to a group of Ishvalan children, he decided that perhaps this man could be one of them. Mustang was clearly a man haunted by his past deeds, he’d seen it in those dark eyes, heard him having nightmares in his tent, yet the General still came back. Returned to the place where he’d lost his humanity; slowly, tirelessly attempting to piece his soul back together for the sakes of everyone else. 

And he wasn’t alone. 

Beside the General was the loyal Captain Hawkeye, a woman as complex and admirable as her Brigadier. The woman that kept Mustang on the straight and narrow. The woman who protected the Brigadier, followed him even into hell, because she wanted to protect not only his dream, but his life. A woman with just as many sins she wished to atone for, and seeing in Mustang a way to accomplish that. 

They were two halves of a whole. There was no question about that. What Mustang lacked, Hawkeye filled. They were inseparable, and together they could do anything. 

While in the public eye, they were teammates, commander and subordinate. One ruthlessly ambitious, the other severely stern. They were formidable, powerful.

But Scar knew there was more. 

He’d seen them when all others had gone. He’d watched as Mustang fell in that tunnel, having to be talked down from becoming a slave to revenge. He’d watched Hawkeye crumble, relieved she didn’t have to pull the trigger to prevent the hate from taking her commander. Scar had watched Mustang shatter as he witnessed his subordinate’s throat being slit, raging and screaming hysterically in his desperation to save her, to know that she was still alive. Scar had watched as Hawkeye broke down when her Colonel was forced through the Portal, when he came back blinded. 

They were two halves of the same whole, and each time they shattered, they built themselves back up, sharing pieces with one another so that they could become stronger, more resilient than before. They had come back to Ishval, tender and hurting, but Scar saw in their eyes strength and determination. They would not allow their pasts to hold them back. They kept moving, always moving forward, towards something more. 

Perhaps it was time, Scar reflected, that he do the same. Perhaps, like the Amestrians, he should move past his own crimes and live. 

But before he moved on to his work for the day, Scar silently said a prayer for the two officers he’d watched destroy themselves again and again in order to do what was right. Perhaps one day their broken lives would stay whole. Perhaps, God willing, their true ambitions would one day be realized.


	13. Brick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy reflects on what he regrets

The sun beat down on the ruins of what had at one time been an Ishvalan city. As Roy looked out over the desolate city, debris having slowly eroded around the edges from sand and wind, a cold chill settled around his heart that would not leave. Somewhat ironic considering he worked so closely with flames. 

It was like walking into one of his nightmares, only, blessedly, there were no more bodies strewn about, no signs of blood or the smell of burnt flesh. The area was quiet, no gunfire or screams, no crashing of building falling, no shouts of orders being given. It was what remained; nothing but sad piles of rubble that had once been a great city. The capital city. 

Despite the oppressive heat, Roy shivered, refusing to avert his eyes from the melancholic scene. In a perverse sense of justice, he decided that he didn’t deserve to look away. This is what he’d helped create; he should face what he’d done. 

“I do not know who was stationed in this sector,” Scar was saying, frowning out at the damage, map and charts in hand. 

The Brigadier felt another chill run up his spine even as his stomach churned. “It was me,” his voice was just above a whisper. “This was my sector.”

The former alchemist slayer glanced down at the shorter man sharply, red eyes burning, before the fury slowly drained away into acceptance. “I see,” the Ishvalan replied evenly. “Who will be cleaning up―?”

“Me,” the General replied firmly. “I’ll be cleaning up this section. Personally.”

Scar eyed Mustang with an evaluating expression before nodding. “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Roy made sure his tone left no room for argument. “It’s time I paid for what I’ve done.”

The two men fell into silence, still staring out over quarter 3B. But when the Ishvalan turned to look down at the Brigadier-General, his expression was one that held more compassion than the Amestrian deserved. “You have done more than promised to see to the restoration of my home, restoring much more than what you destroyed. You should not burden yourself with the entire nation’s guilt.”

A humorless laugh escaped the Amestrian, almost a sob, as he shook his head ruefully. “And if not me, then who?”

“Bradley,” Scar replied without hesitation. “Father. All the homunculi. They were the ones that caused this war. They were the ones that caused most of the wars over the last thousand years. The greatest of sins fall to them, and they have paid. Your greatest sin was wrongly putting faith in a corrupt government and following their orders.”

Amazed at the forgiveness and kind council, Roy stared with open shock on his face. This was not what he’d been expecting when he’d come to Ishval, especially not from this man. “But I―”

“You were a young fool,” Scar interrupted with an impatient swipe of his hand. “We all act foolishly when we’re young. Some of us, when we are older,” he added with a remorseful, self-depreciating scowl. 

Understanding lit the dark eyes, and the General looked away, too. “Still,” he replied softly. “I suppose the equivalent exchange for foolishness is regret.”

“We all harbor regrets. Some of us more than others.”

It was strange, having this calm, familiar conversation with this man, yet Roy found himself feeling more relieved than he had in a long, long time. At least where Ishval was concerned. He’d carried that weight around with him for years, still waking up to nightmares, still unable to look at the sectors on the map of the city without initially flinching. Strange that it would be this man, the man who had been his enemy, who had hated him with every fiber of his being, who now expressed forgiveness. 

Off to the side of the ruins, commanding a group of workers, Roy spied Captain Hawkeye. Unbidden, a smile tugged at his lips. He’d been so worried about her coming back here, seeing this place that was full of so many nightmares for them both. He hadn’t wanted to put her through the stress of reliving the terrors, hadn’t wanted to hurt her anymore. But she’d followed him, followed him with her head held high and her face grim. 'I’ll follow you even into hell, Sir.' How beautiful those words had been and still were. 

Hawkeye really had been with him at every true milestone in his life. Even before he’d become aware of it, she’d been his cornerstone, his rock, his anchor. Without her, what was he? 

Nothing. 

As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps just watching his expression, Scar startled the Brigadier from his inner musings. “Your Captain, was she here, too?”

Yeah,” Roy’s small smile slipped from his lips. “She followed me even here,” he said more to himself. 

The big Ishvalan nodded before surprisingly placing a hand on the Amerstian’s shoulder. “Of all the regrets you have, General, you should not make her one of them.” And before Roy could come out of his stupor, Scar walked away, leaving the Brigadier gawking after him. 

While inclined to be furious, the usual fires of his temper would not ignite, and Roy found himself slowly agreeing. Trying not to think too much, he walked down the small incline to where his Captain was standing in the relative shade of an old tree, dutifully taking notes. “Captain Hawkeye,” he called. 

The woman glanced up, before coming to attention. “Sir.”

A painful twist in the Brigadier’s heart told him that perhaps he regretted knowing Riza Hawkeye, or rather, he regretted not knowing her enough. While in a place filled with so much death and sorrow, regret and despair, it was time to create good feelings here. It was time to bring back life to the desert of their tormented lives.

“Captain,” he lowered his voice into something soft. “I love you.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth, clumsy and thick. But before he could backpedal or do much of anything else, he suddenly found himself stumbling backwards, Hawkeye pressed against his front, devouring his mouth. Wrapping his arms around her as well, the two officers kissed with all the built up tension that had developed steadily for years, since they’d been teenagers, before the Captain came back to her senses, pulling away abruptly. 

“S-Sir,” she snapped back into attention with a salute, embarrassed, face red not from the heat. 

And with the crumbling brick as his witness, Roy laughed, rich and warm as he stared at his Captain, bringing her face closer to his. “I regret nothing,” he whispered before kissing her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably stop writing so mushy...eh, oh well. Enjoy me being a sap!

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can see Roy as the fashionista and not Riza.


End file.
